


The Problem with Running

by sweetnothing



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Canon Typical Violence, Companions, Eventual Smut, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Size Difference, Size Kink, Slow Build, Thalmor, bosmer dovakiin, sarcastic dovakiin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-14
Updated: 2014-06-16
Packaged: 2018-02-04 15:02:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1783267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetnothing/pseuds/sweetnothing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Helgen, Endras is tired of running away from his problems and decides to lay low in Skyrim for a time. He joins the Companions and builds a new life, but can he truly leave his past behind?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Tree limbs tore at Endras as he ran from Helgen as fast as his legs would carry him. In the distance, the Bosmer could still hear Ralof shouting after him. The Nord was nice enough, and his offer to safely escort Endras to the nearby village of Riverwood seemed in earnest, but the man was invested in Skyrim’s civil war just like every other Nord that he had met during his short time in this wretched country. Endras had no desire to be caught up in another war, especially one in which he had no vested interest. He sighed as Ralof’s request echoed in his mind. “Now that you've seen what these Imperials are like first-hand,” he had said, “you should think about going to Windhelm to join the Stormcloaks.” Endras hated the way the man stared at him hopefully, gauging his reaction. He’d bolted into the dense forest, his name echoing off the trees as Ralof shouted for him to come back.

He was brought back to the present when the bow he had taken from an Imperial corpse became tangled in a low hanging branch, causing him to twist and fall. The limb sliced across his cheek and pointed ear, and Endras hissed, feeling the blood well to the surface. He hit the ground hard, knocking the breath from his lungs. Slowly, he pushed himself to his knees and shuffled around so that his back was to a nearby tree. Leaning his head back against the bark, he gasped desperately as he tried to catch his breath. For the first time since he had been taken off the prison cart and ordered to his death, he took a moment to rest and take stock of his situation.

Last night, he had crossed the border from Cyrodiil into Skyrim, unwittingly stumbling into a trap set by the Imperial army. He had worried that the Thalmor had discovered his location and somehow tipped off the local authorities to be watchful in case he tried to cross the border. Fortunately, he found that the Imperials had no idea who he was. However, the trap had captured Ulfric Stormcloak, leader of the rebellion, and the Imperial soldiers were so elated with their capture that they did not hear his pleas when he attempted to explain to them that he had no involvement with the Stormcloak army. So his hands and feet were bound along with the other prisoners, and he was carted off to Helgen to face execution. A couple of Thalmor agents were in attendance for the executions. He kept his head down, and they were so focused on meeting with the Imperial commander that they didn't seem to notice him. _Small favors_ , he thought wryly.

Luckily, the dragon’s timely intervention halted the executions. He was quite grateful to it, considering he was rather attached to his head. Endras never thought he’d see a dragon, much less feel indebted to one. The corners of his lips twitched upwards as he idly wondered if dragons had names. Perhaps if he ever had a kid, he’d name it after the beast.

Sighing, he stood up and brushed the dirt from the torn, bloodied armor he had taken from a corpse. Combing his fingers through his long copper hair, he dislodged some twigs and leaves from his fall. He rubbed his bare arms against the chill in the air, cursing Skyrim’s weather as the cold seeped through the ragged armor and singed boots. Small scratches marred the dark skin on his arms from his impromptu run through the woods, but he didn’t notice any serious wounds. The cut on his face and ear had stopped bleeding, as well.  As he contemplated whether or not his face would actually get cleaner if he attempted to wipe it on the sleeve of the blood-spattered jerkin, shouting and raucous laughter sounded from nearby.

Endras’ head snapped to the side, and his spine stiffened. However, the voices did not sound like they were drawing closer, so he felt it safe to assume that they did not know he was there. Quietly, he stalked over to a boulder and slowly peered around it.  About 50 paces head, three Nords in shabby armor were sitting at a makeshift camp. A woman appeared to be making some sort of slashing gesture, much to the amusement of her two companions.

“You should have heard him beg for his life. ‘Please! I told you everything I know! I gave you everything I have!’ As if I couldn't see the trunk half-hidden under his bed!”

“He should have known better than to try to double-cross you, Svana. Even if he was tired of fencing your loot, there was no reason for him to rat you out to the guards.”

The woman – Svana – leered. “Well, he knows better now, I reckon, every time he looks down at the stumps of those arms of his.” The three of them laughed.

 _Bandits_ , Endras thought. Considering his own past in Valenwood, he had no room to judge bandits, but rage filled him as they talked casually of maiming some poor sod. Silently, he pulled the bow from his back and nocked an arrow, aiming it at the laughing woman’s temple. He drew and released, the arrow zipping through the air and into the woman’s throat. Her eyes were wide, and blood gurgled out of her mouth. Stunned, her companions stared at her for a moment before springing to action, giving Endras enough time to fire another arrow which pierced the chest of the largest man reached for a broadsword leaning against one of the tents. Endras ducked behind the rock again as the third man loosed an arrow at Endras, narrowly missing him. He jumped out from behind the rock and sent another arrow flying, piercing man’s hand and causing him to drop the bow. A final arrow dispatched him.

Endras walked into the camp, quickly locating their provisions. He left the bread, but took the salted salmon and cheese. Searching the corpses, he found a small patch of coins as well as a few gems that he might get a decent price for in the next town he came across. In addition, he took the woman’s patchwork fur armor.  It looked much warmer than the Imperial armor that he was currently wearing, and it had the added bonus of having fewer holes. The Nord woman had been larger than him, so he had to cut off the ends of the sleeves with his daggers to make the armor fit. He cinched it around his waist with a rope so that he was not swallowed in the furs, and pulled on the warm boots. He hummed, feeling the warmth returning to his feet already. Briefly, he considered staying in the camp for the rest of the afternoon and continuing his journey in the morning, but he was unsure whether there were any more bandits lurking about. Swinging his bow and considerably heavier pack over his shoulder, he wandered off again into the forest.

He had only walked a few paces before the trees began to thin, and he came across a path leading to a large statue on the top of a hill. Endras continued up the path, wondering who in their right mind would build a statue in the middle of nowhere. The sharp tang of blood filled his nostrils as he reached the top of the hill, discovering several bodies strewn about a shrine of a man in winged helmet stepping on a serpent.  His eyes were immediately drawn to a motionless figure in a black robe. _Thalmor_. Endras noted with grim satisfaction that the worshipers were able to kill the Altmer despite being poorly armed. He made his way over to the dead mer to see if he was carrying anything of use. Figuring if he couldn't sell them then he could at least use them to make bandages, the Bosmer relieved the dead mer of his robes. As he stuffed them into his already full pack, a piece of parchment fell out of a pocket. Unfolding the parchment, he glanced at the letter.

‘Sanyon, this is the seventh report you have filed this month, and not one of your leads - not one! - has turned up so much as a shred of evidence that a Shrine of Talos exists in the Lake Ilinalta region. No prisoners. No documents. Nothing!... If you feel so sure of your informant, investigate this yourself. Come back with proof. Or not at all.’

Endras glanced back at the dead worshipers, his breath quick and shallow as memories flooded back to him. _The door splinters as it's kicked in... his sister screaming as he’s dragged from the house… the trial and the justiciars… a letter from a friend... hands in a box... and then running, always running…_

He shuddered, and glared at the dead Thalmor. Stuffing the letter in his pack, he pushed the Altmer’s body from the top of the hill, shimmied down behind it, and began dragging the mer through the forest and across the road. A nearby lake was visible from the hill, and Endras wanted to get the mer as far away from the shrine as possible. After several minutes’ exertion, he pushed the body into the lake. As he made his way back up to the road, he noticed a Nord bard holding a lute and watching him with a bemused expression.

Endras smiled brightly at the man. “Hullo! I know what this looks like, but I swear he was dead when I found him. If you would be so kind as to forget you ever saw…” He waved his arm in the general direction of the lake and ran his finger along the dagger in his belt, drawing the bard’s eyes to the motion.

“Saw what?” the bard said.

 “Good man.” Endras was glad the Nord caught on quickly as he hadn't really planned beyond the empty threat. He cast about for anything to distract the man from what he just witnessed.  “Tell me, what is a bard doing out here in the middle of a forest?”

“Some may find their inspiration tucked away in tomes, or by carousing in the cities, but I find it here in the vast expanses of Skyrim. Truly, this is a good place to play a song. Would you like to make a request?” The bard smiled at him hopefully.

“Do you know any songs about awkward situations?”

“I- what?”

“Never mind. Do you know the way to Riverwood?”

 

 

 

“Ralof!”

The Nord stopped just outside the gate to Riverwood, turning to see Endras jogging down the road towards him. The Nord stared as the Bosmer came to a halt next to him, doubling over to catch his breath.

“Is that new armor? Actually, I really don’t want to know. Did you think on what I said? Decided to show those Imperial bastards what for?”

“No,” Endras gasped out, straightening up and meeting Ralof’s eyes. “I’m tired of running. I’ve seen what the Thalmor are doing, and I know how they operate. If your Imperials are in league with the Thalmor, then I will gladly fight .”

Ralof’s face broke into a smile, and he clapped Endras across the shoulders. “Aye, come along then.” They walked into Riverwood together.


	2. Chapter 2

Ralof’s sister, Gerdur, invited Endras to stay the night with her family on the condition that he carry a message to the Jarl in Whiterun requesting guards to help defend the town. Endras agreed, grateful for her assistance seeing as he had few coins to spare. The news from Helgen had shaken both Gerdur and her husband. Seeing as they were willing to take him in even though he was a complete stranger, he felt it was the least he could do to put their mind at ease.

That night, dinner was a subdued affair. However, it had been a long time since Endras had eaten a meal with company, much less had the luxury of eating it at a table, and he couldn’t help but smile despite the worried atmosphere permeating the small house.

As Gerdur and Hod cleared the table, Ralof elbowed him in the ribs. “You seem happy.”

Endras smirked at him. “What can I say? This morning I was laying on the chopping block saying goodbye to my head, and now I’m sitting here with my belly full of rabbit eyeing the most comfortable bed I've seen in years. All in all, I think my situation has improved remarkably.”

“Aye, I guess it has,” Ralof chuckled.

“Though I have to wonder,” Endras began, his brows knitting together in thought, lips twitching as he attempted to feign seriousness, “are dragon attacks a regular occurrence here? Helgen was an experience, but I’m not sure that I’d like to repeat it. If it’s some sort of Skyrim thing, perhaps I should turn around and head back the way I came.”

“No, it’s not a… a ‘Skyrim thing,’ as you put it,” Ralof explained. “Supposedly, the dragons died out centuries ago. Most people thought they were legends.”

Endras sighed exaggeratedly. “I’m glad to hear it. It _is_ an awfully long walk back to Valenwood, after all.”

 “I can imagine.”

“Now if you’ll excuse me,” Endras said as he stood up from the table, “the most wonderful bed is waiting for me, and I have a slightly shorter walk ahead of me tomorrow. Good night, Ralof.”

 

 

Endras left the next morning before sunrise, eager to be done with the favor for Gerdur so he could continue on his way. Gerdur had made sure his pack was filled with food and supplies before he left, and although she included a loaf of bread and a few apples alongside the cheese and leftover rabbit, Endras graciously accepted. He had hidden the apples and bread in Ralof’s pack when no one was paying attention, but kept the rabbit haunch. Endras had never left Valenwood before and wasn't sure if the Green Pact extended outside its borders, but he didn't want to risk it.

As he hiked along the road, he took a moment to appreciate how beautiful the area was. A river ran next to the path, and he could hear a waterfall in the distance. Trees dotted the area, and although they were not as large as the trees in Valenwood, they reminded him of home. There were many mushrooms and flowers growing along the road that he could use to make potions and poisons, and he gathered as many as he could fit in his pack.

The road winded down a hill and into several farms settled at the base of the mountain. When he was almost at the bottom of the hill, he noticed a large creature wielding a club stomping around in the crops at one of the farms. Endras winced inwardly, thinking of all the money the farmers would lose with their crops destroyed. He continued to watch the giant as it swung its club at something on the ground, and saw a person dive out of the way of the club.

Acting on instinct, he left the road and started running straight for the farm, thinking the giant was attacking the farmers. He grabbed the bow off his back and nocked an arrow. As he reached the farm, Endras slowed to a halt and drew the arrow, firing it at the giant. The arrow skipped off the giant’s arm without even scratching it. The giant’s head turned toward Endras, and it roared as it began to charge towards him, swinging the club high over its head. Endras pulled another arrow from the quiver and attempted to nock it, but his hands were shaking too hard. All at once, a woman appeared and bashed the creature’s leg with her shield. A large Nord man stepped between Endras and the giant and slashed his broadsword at the giant’s knees, causing it to stumble and fall.  With the giant on the ground, the man ran his blade through the creature’s heart, killing it.

As Endras stared at the dead giant in a daze and watched the Nord wipe his sword on the giant’s clothes, he failed to notice the woman with the shield approaching him, her chestnut hair blowing slightly in the breeze. “Well, it’s dead, no thanks to you.”

Endras tore his gaze from the giant and met her eyes. For some reason he couldn't place, he found himself unnerved by her gaze. Perhaps it was because her eyes were unnaturally pale. “Uh, I tried?” he supplied hopefully, earning a sneer as she and her friend turned to leave. As the pair walked away, it occurred to him that he no longer knew where the road was since had left the path when he ran to the farm to help.

“Wait!” Endras shouted after them desperately as they walked away. The pair stopped and turned towards him. “I was asked to deliver a message. Could you tell me how much further it is to Whiterun?”

The woman stared at him disbelievingly for a few moments before deciding that the Bosmer was serious. Slowly, she lifted her arm and pointed to the large city on the hill behind her. With all the excitement, Endras had failed to notice it. “Yes, well. Thank you,” he stammered, embarrassed.

“If you’re heading to Whiterun, you should talk to Kodlak about joining the companions,” the huge man said, oblivious to his embarrassment. He had the same pale eyes as his companion. His voice was deep and rumbly and made Endras’ stomach do somersaults. In that moment, he thought that he would give anything to hear it again.

“At least you would have someone to talk to, ice-brain,” the woman muttered.

“Thank you. I’ll consider it,” Endras replied, and then ran past them towards Whiterun, his cheeks tinged pink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and for the kudos and comments on the last chapter! I really appreciate them.
> 
> In case anyone was wondering, in this fic I'm going to ignore the cannibalism bits of the Green Pact. To be honest, cannibalism really freaks me out, and I don't know if I could handle writing it. x_x

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This is my first fic in a long time, and it's unbeta'd, so any mistakes are mine. Comments and kudos are much appreciated.
> 
> In case you haven't found it in-game, the letter comes from an unmarked shrine on the map where a Thalmor has massacred a group of Talos worshipers. If you're interested, here's a link of where to find it as well as a link to the full letter. http://elderscrolls.wikia.com/wiki/Shrine_of_Talos_Massacre


End file.
